Yet if you want to commiserate about a pot of coffee and the Hollywood façade that is
Keeping Up with the Kardashians, then by all means, please read on.
The familiar aroma that normally lures me to the kitchen by tantalizing my taste buds was instead contained under the circular black lid of our generic coffee pot. That was my first sign that something was off. Then I tilted my coffee mug for that first sip and my nose got an unpleasant whiff of the doctored up liquid. I swear I was born with some genetic link to a hound dog. Put to the test, I could probably sniff out a dead body before it started decomposing. My nose has always been my strongest asset. Well, in terms of function over form. I inherited a flat nose that was once described as “pug” and is missing the ridge to support most kinds of glasses. Don't worry; I've learned to adapt.
My husband would say, “What do you know about coffee anyways?” since what I drink hardly resembles the coffee beans harvested in Columbia, but rather some sort of diluted concoction of which my morning is incomplete without at least two cups. I wondered how much coffee beans varied among brands and if my dissatisfaction was more along the lines of “it’s me and not you” as in you the coffee. Perhaps my personalized pink and white coffee mug with the slogan “Mom needs sleep, but this coffee will do” was mistakenly stored in the cabinet with a leftover film of spoiled residue that the dishwasher had left behind. Whatever the reason, I armed myself with a fresh cup and found just enough leftover coffee from another bag to satisfy my needs for the day. (Side note: Must buy coffee before the day’s end.)
With the kids out the door, I sat down to keep up with the Kardashians with my cup of joe that would be called Koffee if hijacked by their branding team. Now I don’t usually watch all forty minutes, but get the gist of the storyline and fast forward through the rest. Last night’s episode was when Kim had baby North. (It just doesn’t seem right to use the name “North” without using the clarifying word baby. Even my spell check picks up the error.) Towards the end of the episode Kim describes being a mother to baby North and she says something to the effect of, “She’s like my BFF. Like I spend every day with her!” Well, duh. You are her mother!
Now the world of baby nurses, nannies, and Lucite cribs isn’t a life that I can relate to. I was hands on, round-the-clock, whenever my babies needed me. Multiply that times four plus the difficulties with Peter who had anything but a conventional sleep routine until the first grade. But I did it without hired help because that's what most moms do. And upper crust or not, I’d always assumed that nurturing a new baby was the prize at the end of every pregnancy, for every woman, working out of the home or not. But in the land of Kim Kardashian I guess even baby North is privileged to have her mother’s attention. Maybe I’m grumpy due to the hiccups in my morning routine or maybe I’m finally realizing that my time has come to bid adieu to the Kardashians. And I can’t say that I’ll miss them.